The Artist

aw hell yeah !!

“Shoutout to myself because after everything I’ve been through, I still have a good heart”

— Unknown

Ahhhh perfect and pure fantasy of love ✨💜

jazz music is just so great and romantic like yes just spin me around and dance with me in the kitchen while sinatra croons on the shitty radio we own and just love me love me love me

Under the Stars

I lay .

Under the Moon,

I play.

Under the Sun,

I light up.

Under these lights,

I pray,

Giving healing the space,

To take place.

Yup, thinking the whole goddamn universe is what we crazy people do at night. Ideas, like the stars, that shine bright in our minds when it is dark.

What keeps you awake at the middle of the night? Coffee? Nah! Anxiety? No also. Random YT videos? Close. Writing ideas blossoming out of nowhere? Yup!!! Just imagining things, and constructing something at the back of my mind.

Weirdly enough, this is one of my comfort songs.

(turn the music on before reading, you'll get me better)

I listen to it as i imagine him singing it to me.

Holding me carefully, not too little or i might fall apart, not too much or i might break. We sway slowly side to side, in each other's arms, just for a moment passing by, as i shed all my unseen tears. I imagine that he cares, he cares that he never cared for me like i did for him. I imagine him singing this to my poor soul, telling me that he'd only make me cry, because it would make more sense than my idea of "us". We sway with the wind brushing our sorrows away, somehow my sorrow held onto my heart for him and took it away as well. So as long as this song fills the room, we're the only two that exist, only two that matter. And as long as this plays, it matters to him that i never mattered to him as he did to me. He knows, he shows, he sees, he's sorry.

But the song ends, and so does this pitiful fantasy. Reality comes rushing in...

I had him on my mind , ingrained in my brain. I made playlists for him in hopes the melodies might convey a fraction of my affection. I saved posts that i would send him if he was ever mine. I wrote him poems, which were some of my best works. I had a whole digital diary of him, secret albums of pictures of him, especially of ones which i took, if he could see himself through my eyes, him smiling wide with glistening eyes, maybe he would also want to capture and safeguard every nuisance of his beauty; and also, there is that folder of pictures my friends took of us together in one frame, accidentally of course.

I thought of being near him all the time, i thought of his wellbeing, i wished for him to know how perfect he was. Is. And he doesn't know any of this. I had him written all over my life for about an year, and he will have no idea how deep it goes.

He never led me on, he never did anything that would "make" me feel something about him nor did he drop hints that he felt something, he didn't have to, i guess, because i was never delusional, just utterly smitten...

(but then, what business did those eyes have, meeting mine??)

One day, i gave in to this agony and said to him that i liked him, and he said it was ok, i was his friend, this won't change anything. He was the nicest about it. But I still wonder, what if I would have said so much more, only if he could hear so much more... if he could, I'd tell him,

how like is something i did to a stranger at the airport who i talked to for a few minutes,

how like doesn't do justice to the gravity with which i was falling,

how like is what my mouth says, while my heart goes on to describe his beautiful piscine eyes, as the deepest ocean I'd drown in,

how like is what i wished it was, because it wasn't love of course, something less, something very one sided, but something so true.

If only i could tell him, i missed him when he was out of sight or even when he was right in front of my eyes, i fell for his laugh and his smile and his eyes and his lips and his hair and his hands and how he treated everyone respectfully, and his brain, and how he was so in love with his family, and how he was just a beautiful human being...

If i told him, i felt the familiarity of falling the first day i met him, if i told him i never wanted to be just friends, if i told him i would cherish him in every way he deserves...

Would it have made a difference? Would our story have a different ending?

I like to think

no.

I still don't know how to be that for someone else what he was to me.

Was? .... Is?....

no.

For the sake of my damn heart and the amount of love overflowing from it, it should not be an "is".

Was.

"Was" is where it should belong.

So I'll listen to "cry" again and imagine him singing again as we sway back and forth and I'll imagine i cry my unseen tears and pretend that

this is what my closure is.

Life goes on,

Ignoring my pain and blues

Life goes on,

No matter what i choose.

They asked , then what's the point living,

when all we're headed to, is death?

I tried to find that answer myself

but failed hard, somehow.

Until Now.

Looking back at all that,

i dont weep, but ponder,

if death is all it is about

then we wouldn't have been alive

in the first place!

It's not about ending, in the end.

It's about making everything about my end

worth dying for.

It's about making a life, worth living.

Making all my time between

life and death

worth remembering,

is all what it is about.

-mauli

The Sun

Days are brutal,

Nights are cold.

I'm about to rest my,

hope ashore .

But one day,

it hit my mind ,

that the Sun never failed to show.

It gave me strength .

I feel the heat again .

Now, I am ready, to bear the pain,

bigger than what, I ever bore .

( 19.5.2020)

This is as true as it can ever get... We are nothing but the some of everything around us. Everyone and everything, and how we perceive it.

“Nothing of me is original. I am the combined effort of everyone I’ve ever known.”

— Chuck Palahniuk, Invisible Monsters

will be shook, when you look at me now.

regained what you took, will be wondering how.

a page in my book, now i'm so over thou

my growth off the hook, you'll be takin a bow...

(Og)

Lovely , just lovely !!

Only one look...

Your smile is precious Your scent is vicious Only one look at you makes me imagine all the fictions

Every time you come around it’s like you are a breeze And when you go away feels like a storm woke up from ease

When you bowl the overs and knock them all down I feel like you are the only one playing on the ground

Just one look at you makes me daydream Only one look that makes you the soul of the team…